Zorro: The Bullet
by lil Didi
Summary: NWZ - A missing scene from the episode "Conundrum".  I have always wondered how Zorro managed to tend to the wound he received when fighting with the Emisarry.


_Note: Certain episodes of the NW Zorro series have left me wondering about 'missing' scenes. This is the first I've chosen to explore. It is from the episode 'Conundrum', after Zorro escapes with Tornado from the pueblo and before the party at the tavern._

**Zorro: The Bullet**

The ride to the cave was excruciating. The wound in his arm burned and the loss of blood was making him light-headed. Zorro could feel the blood beginning to run down his arm once again, and he pulled Tornado to a slow trot. He had used his sash to tie around the wound in an effort to staunch the flow of blood, but the smooth silk did not stay tight enough. With his free hand he grabbed the end of the sash and used his teeth to hold the other end steady as he pulled it tight once again. It caused a jolt of pain to shoot up his arm and he gritted his teeth.

He gave Tornado a small nudge and once again the horse picked up speed. Zorro leaned over his horse's neck as each stride of the horse made his arm ache even more. His vision was starting to go gray around the edges and he felt overly warm. The bullet needed to be removed as soon as possible before infection set in.

Finally, Tornado turned into the arroyo where the cave was hidden and Zorro sighed in relief. The horse stepped on the hidden panel that opened the cave entrance and Zorro ducked as they entered. From pure habit, the horse trotted into his little stall and waited patiently for Zorro to dismount. He shook his head in the direction of his water trough, but knew from his training not to move toward it until he had been unsaddled and properly cooled down.

Zorro hesitated before sliding from the saddle. For once, he was grateful that Felipe was not in the cave waiting for his return. But he knew it wouldn't be long before the boy came in, looking for Zorro's return. As his feet hit the floor, his legs almost gave out, but he managed to hold himself upright using Tornado's saddle horn to brace him. He laid his head against the smooth leather of the saddle as he gathered his strength.

"I'm sorry, boy, but you are going to have to wait a bit longer for that cool drink."

He would have to be quick if he was going to get the bullet out before Felipe arrived, though he wasn't sure how he was going to accomplish it on his own. He tried to shelter Felipe as much as possible from the dangers associated from being Zorro, especially when it came to being wounded himself. He knew Felipe had an aversion to blood, probably due to the trauma of that day long ago when Diego had found him in the middle of a battlefield, lost and scared. There had certainly been an abundance of blood that day and he couldn't blame the boy for not wanting to see anymore.

He crossed to his desk, pulling off the hat and mask with his good arm. He dropped them onto the desk and practically fell into his chair. The gloves came off next, so that his fingers were free to fumble with the buttons of his shirt. After several minutes, he finally succeeded in getting the sweat and blood soaked shirt off. He gingerly probed the wound, and could feel the hard lump of the bullet, still lodged in the fleshy part of his arm. His jaw was tightly clenched against the pain his ministrations were causing. The bleeding had slowed down considerably, but his actions were causing it to start once again. The bullet wasn't overly deep, but it wouldn't be easy to get out with one hand, and with his off hand at that. He had taught himself to be ambidextrous, but even he had his limits.

Drawing the knife he kept tucked in the back of his waistband, he held it up. Zorro imagined that his old friend and mentor, Sir Edmund, never expected his gift to be used to dig a bullet out, but he found he was grateful for it none the less. With a deep breath, he set about the grim task.

It took him several tries due to the shaking in his off hand, but finally the bullet was out and Zorro leaned back in his chair wearily. He could feel the fresh blood running down his arm, but for the moment he didn't move, just let his eyes drift closed.

He was not sure how long he sat like that, but a sound behind him brought his eyes back open slowly. He turned his tired head to see a wide-eyed Felipe standing on the steps behind him. Zorro gave him a weary look. He would have shrugged if the pain in his arm and shoulder did not prevent it. Felipe stepped closer, his eyes locked on the blood that was slowly oozing from the wound. He swallowed hard, then looked at Zorro, pointing.

"It seems that the Emissary's troops are a bit better trained than our own," he responded to the unspoken question. He tried to say it in a light-hearted manner, but at Felipe's frightened look, Zorro regretted his attempt at humor. "I'm sorry, Felipe, if anyone knows that being shot is not funny, it's me at this moment."

Zorro nodded at his horse, still patiently waiting in his stall. "I'll take care of this. Can you take care of Tornado for me? His day hasn't gone much better than mine," he said, still trying to use humor to put the boy's fear to rest.

Felipe did not move, unwilling to leave his friend. Zorro wouldn't be making jokes if the wound was life-threatening, but Felipe still hesitated. Zorro's forehead was creased with lines of pain and the boy could see the beads of sweat that lined his friend's face.

Zorro tried to give him a reassuring smile, despite the pain. "I will need your help in a moment, Felipe, but for now, take care of Tornado. I wouldn't have made it home without him."

Finally, Felipe nodded and moved backwards toward the horse. His eyes didn't leave Zorro's until he felt the horse muzzle his back. He watched as the older man dabbed at the wound with the remains of his black shirt, staunching the flow of blood, his jaw and every muscle in his upper body tensed against the pain. Felipe forced himself to look away and quickly looked after the horse.

While Felipe was busy with Tornado, Zorro tended to the wound, but each time he pressed against it his head swam and he had to close his eyes. When he was sure the fresh blood had stopped oozing out of the hole, he tried to rise, to get some fresh bandages and a salve to put on it to guard against infection, but the moment he tried to rise, dizziness flooded over him and he slumped back into the chair.

Just as Felipe was finishing with the horse, he heard Zorro fall back into the chair with a groan. The boy hurried over to his side. For a moment he thought that Zorro had passed out, but his friend's eyes came open slowly. His jaw was still clenched, but he nodded. "We'll need some bandages," he whispered through clenched teeth. Within moments, Felipe gathered up the supplies he knew they would need and was back at Zorro's side. He had the fresh bandages, but also several of the vials that Zorro kept safely tucked away for just such an emergency. He looked at Zorro, questioning, unsure which one to use.

With a nod, Zorro pointed to a clear liquid. It was an alcohol solution that he had been experimenting with. He knew it would clean the wound, but wasn't looking forward to its application. Felipe dabbed a little bit of the liquid on a rag and held it against the wound, his eyes glued to Zorro's face. The man grimaced and a small grunt of pain was the only indication he gave of just how bad the injury hurt. Felipe worked quickly, trying to spare his friend as much discomfort as possible.

When the wound was carefully cleaned, Felipe put a fresh bandage over it, which seemed to have stopped bleeding for now. He wrapped it tightly several times, hoping to prevent the blood from starting to flow once again. Zorro grimaced occasionally, but gave no other indication of pain.

Finally, the job was done and both of them sat back, Felipe in relief and Zorro from pure exhaustion. Beads of sweat ran along his brow and chest. He took several deep breaths, trying to push aside the pain and think coherently. He knew his father would be coming home soon, and he needed to hear the news from the pueblo. He wasn't sure if anyone saw Zorro get shot, but if they had, he was sure that the alcalde and the Emissary would be on the look out for any man with an arm wound. He would have to be twice as careful not to let anyone know he was injured or it would be a quick end to his crusade. He had to admit as well, that he was anxious to hear how the Emissary had reacted to Zorro getting his horse back. He was sure the Emissary would come up with yet another scheme to capture Zorro, but he hoped it would be awhile before Zorro had to ride.

After several deep breaths, he was ready to get dressed and prepare to meet his father. It wasn't easy and several times they had to stop to let Diego rest, but eventually he was back in the clothes of a caballero. As they got his jacket back on, they heard the front door slam open and his father calling his name. Diego gave a nod to Felipe, who raced up the stairs to check the peep hole. Diego followed slowly, willing his body to move when all he really wanted to do was lie down.

As the two stepped out into the library, Alejandro came around the corner.

"Diego, there you are. Didn't you hear me calling you?" Alejandro didn't wait for a reply but came up to his son. "You won't believe what happened in the pueblo today."

Diego had to remind himself to keep taking deep breathes. "Oh, what?" he asked, expecting to hear all about Zorro getting Tornado back. What he did hear nearly knocked him off his feet almost like the bullet had earlier in the day.

"Zorro has killed the Emissary!" Alejandro said.

"What?" Diego breathed. He didn't look at Felipe, but was sure the boy wore an identical shocked expression.

Alejandro nodded. "Apparently there was quite a fight in the cuartel, and somehow, Zorro pushed the Emissary off the roof. He died."

"Are you sure?"

"The alcalde checked him himself, Diego. I don't think he would lie about such a thing. He has to be just as relieved as the rest of us that the Emissary is gone."

Diego shook his head. He hadn't expected this news and wasn't sure how he felt. He never reveled in the death of any man, but this man…it was hard for Diego to mourn such a person.

Alejandro went on, oblivious to the thoughts racing through his son's mind. "In fact, he must be relieved because he has ordered a celebration at the tavern tonight."

"A…celebration…" Diego was so stunned he couldn't even force out a coherent thought.

"Si," his father said. "He said he is going to order the Emissaries men back to Spain first thing tomorrow morning and that the people deserve to blow off a little steam." Alejandro shook his head. "I think the party is more about the alcalde not being hung for failing to capture Zorro than it is for the people of the pueblo, but I have to admit, I will not miss the Emissary, either."

"Nor will I," Diego mumbled, not fully realizing what he said.

Alejandro moved to leave, then turned back suddenly. "Oh, I almost forgot, Diego. You won't believe what the Emissary tried to pull this afternoon after you left the tavern." He pulled the folded piece of paper from his breast pocket and handed it to Diego who grabbed it with his left hand.

"What is it?" he asked as he unfolded the paper with a shake. His right arm hung limply at his side, but Alejandro didn't seem to notice.

"A letter from you to the governor…supposedly," Alejandro replied. There was a hint of amusement to his voice as he watched the shock of what he was reading register on Diego's face.

"Father, I assure you, I would never write such a-"

"I know, Diego, don't let it bother you. I could spot it for a fake right away. I know that you wouldn't do this. Although," he said thoughtfully, "I have to admit the handwriting did look a lot like yours at first. The Emissary evidently has a talent for forgery…or did," he reminded himself.

Diego shook his head and slowly crumpled the paper in his hand. The lengths the man was willing to go to harm the de la Vega's was boundless. But why had the Emissary targeted his family like this? It made no sense. There was something else going on, but with the death of Emissary Risendo, they may never find out what the man's true intentions had been.

Alejandro gave his son a pat on the shoulder. "Forget about it, Diego, it isn't important now. We are finally free of that man, and I for one, am ready to move on." He turned to go. "I have some business to finish, and then I am going to change my clothes before heading back to the pueblo for the party tonight. Are you coming with me?"

Diego nodded absently, his thoughts still racing. After his father left, he gripped his right wrist and sank down into the nearest chair. He finally looked at Felipe, who was watching him closely.

"I promise you Felipe, it was not my intention to kill him," he said softly, not wanting to be overheard. "If this is true, it was an accident."

Felipe nodded. In this matter, he agreed with Alejandro. He was glad the Emissary was dead, even though he knew Diego would probably not feel the same way. He signed a question to Diego, who nodded in response.

"Yes, we will go to the tavern tonight. I think I will need to see this for myself before I will believe we are actually rid of him forever."

He rose tiredly, and put his good arm around Felipe. "At least a party will give us a chance to dance with the beautiful senoritas tonight," he joked lightly. "Me with Victoria and you with…?"

Felipe blushed and lightly pushed Diego away. There was a senorita he was interested in, but he wasn't about to admit it to Diego, at least not yet. But if she was at the party…well perhaps he would have a chance to dance with her.

Diego, pleased he had been able to distract Felipe, at least momentarily, from his wounded arm, continued to tease the young man playfully. When he felt he had pushed Feilpe far enough, he sent the boy to the kitchen for some juice, and headed down the hall to his room. He would try to get a little rest before the party, but in the back of his mind he was wondering what the night, and tomorrow, would bring.


End file.
